


In Sanguine Veritas

by Dienophile



Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Ending, Friends to Lovers, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-05
Updated: 2019-10-05
Packaged: 2020-11-24 18:50:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 6,386
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20912414
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dienophile/pseuds/Dienophile
Summary: Alternate ending to Blood and Wine utilizing idea of communication between Regis and Detlaff to give a slightly happier ending to the whole story.





	1. Runs in the blood

**Author's Note:**

> Please enjoy! Also anything in Italics is a thought.

Regis smelt rather than saw it. The rocks had obscured his vision, the act of having most of his bones crushed had distracted him, but the smell was unmistakable. It was Geralt's blood, distinct from the mutations, and no small amount either. He knew not how he removed the stones, how he wiggled out, but it was managed. He barely had time to register Dettlaff on top of Geralt before rushing over. His friend, his most beloved friend was being killed, that was unacceptable. It had to stop, no matter what. 

Geralt struggled but the vampire had an iron grip. The pain as teeth ripped into his neck was overwhelming, but he had to focus, had to escape. Teeth sunk in, tearing the flesh moving towards an artery. He would bleed out, lying, trapped.  _ Fuck that. _ Geralt tried to use his own weight to roll, hoping to dislodge the creature, the monster. However this plan was disregarded as suddenly the weight was gone. Coughing, bleeding, Geralt rolled to look over. Detlaff was on the ground, still transformed into a giant winged monster but Regis was holding his midsection. It was wrong somehow.  _ Why isn't Regis transformed? Where are his claws? _ The vampire struggled to free itself, trying to get back at the witcher, blood dripping from its screaming mouth. 

Regis held on, body not healing anywhere near as quickly as was required. Claws tore him, trying to shred his arms but his grip held from behind. He tried to force the bond with the other vampire, tried to force Detlaff to understand. Geralt was bleeding out nearby, the night becoming perfumed with his scent. Regis saw the situation becoming desperate. He closed his eyes and moved slightly, moving his hands to better prevent the rabid vampire moving forward but allowing turning. Detlaff responded by swinging around and finding an unguarded neck. He responded immediately, fangs sinking in. 

_ Can you taste it Detlaff? Do you understand now? I can't let you kill him, this you must accept. Please, I know it, taste the feelings through our bond. See how I care for him. If you must kill my brother, let it be me. Rip me apart but leave him, let him live.  _ Regis felt the bite slacken. Detlaff had so often complained that he could read Regis' every emotion like a book when they shared blood. Such was a side effect of their bond, but never had it served such a helpful purpose. Geralt meanwhile watched in horror as the vampire tore into his friend, who seemed to be putting up little to no resistance.

"Regis!" He tried to scream but even breathing was becoming difficult, his vision was blurring. 

He tried crawling over, but the silver sword was too far, the movement too difficult. The agony was equal only to the horror of helplessness in the face of his dear friend's death. Suddenly it ended, Detlaff seemed to let him go, gently putting the man down. He had his calm appearance, his eyes glassy, face distorted in pain. His form transforming back to its more human one. He whispers something to Regis before standing and turning to Geralt. 

"I did not understand, I couldn’t. Please present this to the Duchess. Consider it a form of amends" He look at his own claws for a moment before stabbing himself in the chest. 

Geralt felt the corners of his vision going black, faded, unable to comprehend what was happening. Something cold was being poured down his throat, something was close by. It smelt like cinnamon, a pleasant smell. He sank into a state of unconsciousness. 

He awoke confused, but very much alive. _At least I assume death doesn't involve waking up sore and weak_. He was lying on something soft, comfortable. Perhaps closing eyes again wouldn't be such a terrible idea. 

"Sir is not awake yet, you will have to return another day. He is quite weak yet." A voice came floating in, it was a voice he knew. 

"The Duchess is waited with bated breath for his return, she wished me to carry her best wishes and desire to assist in anyway possible. Perhaps the Master Witcher would be helped by the court physician?" Another voice, proud, masculine, again it rang a bell.

"I was informed by Master Regis that the witcher is out of danger but now needs peace and rest for at least a week before any formal engagements. I will happily keep the Duchess informed of his progress and please pass on my many thanks for her concern." Polite but firm, the first voice again. It made him feel oddly safe. 

Geralt rolled slightly, still stiff but passed into sleep much easier this time. The sheets much more welcoming than the cold stone of Tesham Mutna. The outside world could wait a little longer. 

The second time, waking was more permanent. He was home, that much was obvious, back in his own bed. It had obviously been turned into a sick room, the dresser now covered in bottles, clean bandages and harsh smelling herbs. Trying to sit up, proved difficult, painful but also seemed to cause enough noise to draw in company.  _ Still better to be sitting then lying back like an invalid. _ He managed to leaned against the backboard of the bed. 

"You are awake!" Barnabas-Basil looked intensely relieved, rushing over to help his master sit up in bed, placing a pillow behind him for comfort. 

"B.B., how long was I out?" His voice was thin, weak sounding. 

The majordomo brought a glass of water over, offering it to the witcher. It was gladly accepted. "Small sips sir, your throat is still quite tender. You have been asleep for three days, though I am told Witcher's have much faster healing then normal folk." Relief was obvious in his voice. 

"Ya perk of the mutations. How did I get here?" He tried to keep his sips small, the desire to drain the glass in one gulp in conflict with the pain of swallowing. 

"You arrived quite late at night, blood everywhere, throat torn open. Marlene had quite the shock. You were already unconscious, being carried by Master Regis. We were informed it was brought on by battling the Beast of Beauclair. He left your bedside only when summoned to the palace." The majordomo smiled, the fatigue showing on his face. "We have all been quite worried sir, the staff will be very pleased you awoke. There was some hesitancy to believe you would at first. How are you feeling?" 

"Thank you, and I’ve been much worse." 

"Of course sir, now I believe Marlene has some soup specially prepared if you are feeling well enough. I must also help change your bandages. After soup, there are a few potions to drink, to help." He nodded resolute in his next task. A task was better than simply waiting, at least now he could truly help. The passive lingering of the last few days had been unbearable. The bandage around the witcher throat was removed, showing a horrifying wound that was slowly healing, covered in herbal salves. 

“B.B. did Regis say what happened? How did we get away? How am I not dead?” His voice wavered. 

“He did not sir, now please rest. All answers can wait until you are rested. Any sudden movements now could reopen your wound, now please lie still for a moment. I will bring in soup soon.” He had a slight pleading edge. “Just rest sir, please. I am sure it will make sense soon.” 

“No but I shouldn’t have survived.” 

“You did sir, that is what matters.” He whipped off the old cream before putting on a new layer from a pot at the bedside table. 

  
_ How did I make it here? Why did Detlaff stop? What did he mean by he understood? What happened? _ But he kept it to himself and let the majordomo help out, still too weak to insist on anything anyway. 


	2. Heart of the Matter

Two days of soup and Geralt was allowed to have solid foods. He took issue with the staff acting as collective wet nurses but B.B informed him they simply wished to help. The majordomo took the majority of the hands on tasks, changing bandages and making salves from instructions written in flowery but neat script. Damien showed up again on the second day to give a debrief. He was more questioning of the state of affairs but was quickly rushed away by a nervous majordomo, eager to keep his master healing. Regis showed up halfway through the third day. He seemed reassured in seeing Geralt sitting up and reading. The sun warming the bench on the front of the house. Regis leaned against the wall, taking in the view. 

"You have the appearance of a scholar Geralt, a shame you never took to the vocation." He smiled, taking the chair next to him.

"I was informed that were I to do anything active, a terrifying barber-surgeon would surely come after me." He was pleased to see his friend. 

"And he would, he is at his most dangerous when patients refused to listen to informed advice. Jests aside, how are you feeling?" 

"Like I should have died."  _ Why didn’t I die Regis, why did he stop? He was winning, could have killed us both but then left. Why did he stab himself? What did he mean by saying he understood you? _ For the moment he tried to pry information rather than outright asking. 

"Surely the famous White Wolf has had worse wounds then a minor gashing to an artery." Regis moved to inspecting the various concoctions on the table nearby. B.B had insisted on keeping a pain tonic nearby at all times. Along with a clotting agent, just in case. 

"The opened arte ry is minor compared to the vile poison you have been forcing on me." 

"Sarcasm can only mean you are feeling better, hence I am either a terrible poisoner or an acceptable healer. I would like to further mention that ingredients of your own concoctions are far more dangerous than anything I have given. Perhaps the problem lies not in the potions themselves but your palate. After drinking nothing but witcher elixirs perhaps your taste receptors have become compromised, a poor affliction for a vintner." 

Geralt grunted, trying to keep the derision out of his tone and failing. 

"Now would you allow me to inspect your neck? I wish to see how the wound is healing." 

Another grunt, it sounded more affirmative this time. 

Geralt tried to stay still as the vampire delicately began removing the bandages, revealing the scar underneath. He smiled, looking pleased. 

"It's healing quite nicely, another scar to add to the collection I dare say." He opened a salve and began gently smearing it over the closed wound. "This should help accelerate your healing ability, and prevent the itchiness. I wouldn't want you to re-open it after all this." He spoke softly, head quite close to the witcher. 

Geralt closed his eyes, the proximity was oddly comforting. He noticed the soft smell of herbs, of cinnamon, thyme and rosemary clung to the vampire. They were relaxing, as was his gentle touch. Still it served only to remind him of a very foggy memory. 

"Regis, I have to ask you something." 

"Of course Geralt, please go ahead. I am all ears as they saying goes." 

"How did I survive?" 

"Luck, sheer stubbornness, or a combination, I suspect." 

"Be serious Regis." 

"I found shallow in your pact, used that and pressure to stop the bleeding. We then came here, from there it was more thanks to your own naturally impressive regenerative properties. Now please stay still, I want to rebandage it." Regis lowered his gaze, offering a clinical face. 

They stayed in silence after that. Geralt felt almost sad when the vampire moved away, his fingers no longer touching, the feeling of comfort gone. Regis smiled, obviously pleased with his handy work, and moved to reclaim the seat on the porch. 

"I heard that the guards found a pool of vampire blood and a heart that was ripped out. Damien declared the beast dead, owing to the heart being found. He was informed that as Vampire bodies generally fall apart on death, it was only natural to find only pieces.” Geralt choose his words carefully, studying his companion's face. 

"The principle worry at present is your condition, all other problems are secondary. They will be dealt with at the appropriate time." The voice was equally careful. 

"I am fine Regis, takes a lot more than that to take me down." 

"Then I hope that you are never forced to battle a vampire again." 

Geralt relapsed into silence, it was obvious no answers were being offered. He would simply have to bide his time, or ask more clever questions. 

“Where is he now then?” 

The vampire looked out on the fields, his face suddenly sad. “I am not sure, my immediate concern was your life and getting you somewhere safe. He vanished, left Toussaint probably. He has few ties left here after all.” A long silence. “It will be fall proper soon, everyone will begin thinking of the colder months. The trees will shed their leaves, turning most beautiful colours. Perhaps it is the brevity that gives true beauty. The knowledge that they only exist for so long makes the colours more vibrant, the views more bewitching.” 

“You are being purposefully secretive.”

“I am simply reflecting on life Geralt, how precious it is, how glad I am that you are alright. I should be allowed that after all.” 

“Will you stay in Toussaint?” 

“At least until you are back to fully capable my dear friend. Then, I am not sure. Perhaps go searching, perhaps not. I fear my anchor here will soon no longer require my services.” 

“Anchor?” 

“Do not worry about it my dear friend, rest now. You had a close shave with death, best to recover.”

They sat in silence until Regis retired back to his own home, leaving a confused witcher behind to muddle through his little speech.


	3. through wine, truth

The month of September went by quietly, but peacefully. Geralt was able to move about after a week, where the focus shifted to rebuilding his strength and endurance. There was also the matter of receiving his prize from the Duchess. It hurt to lie to her about Detlaff's fate, but it seemed the simplest option. The feast after proved a tiring affair, when he simply wanted to return to his home, perhaps find Regis and drink a bottle of expensive wine. All the people of importance seemed to want to seen talking to the witcher, yet few had anything of consequence to say. He managed to slip away to stand at the balcony looking over the balcony, looking at the flowers on their last gasp of summer.  _ More beautiful as they aren’t eternal.  _

"You seem deep in thought Witcher." 

Geralt was pulled from his reverie by a familiar female voice, one calm, stoic. Orianna gave him a very slight smile, more polite than anything. She was swirling a glass of wine, its dark colours matched her dress perfectly. 

"Suppose I am." 

"Then as you have no pressing commitments, you should join me for a walk in the gardens. I am eager to speak with the killer of the beast of Beauclair." She offered another smile that didn't leave her mouth and move to offer an arm. 

Sighing, but seeing no escape, he followed her out. She moved like was made of wood, all strong but stiff. They only stopped when reaching a more secluded section of the garden, chasing away a young couple who had been in search of privacy. 

"A beautiful thing, young love." Orianna nodded at their fleeing backs, her voice betraying no particular emotion. 

"It can be, but can often blind those involved." 

"Very true, can cause parties to do very unwise things. Things against their own better judgement, perhaps ignoring their lifetimes of knowledge. Risking what ought to be more important." She turned to face him, face set. 

Geralt simply nodded, unsure of what to add, but convinced she was hinting at something other than the habits of the romantics of Toussaint.

"I am told of ballads that express you have a certain expertise on the subject." She spoke as though uttering an insult. 

"You shouldn’t listen to them then. Plus I think we are hardly talking about ballads or lies that Dandelion chose to publicize. Speak plainly." 

"Of course witcher, you should come to my home tomorrow night. Arrive by the front door, and you will be told to wait in my second balcony. Come alone. We have much to discuss, and it had best be done without worry of spies" She nodded and left, ignoring his sounds of distaste. She hadn’t touched her wine. 

Curiosity is not a trait that Geralt lacked, it was not difficult to vanish the next night. He simply told B.B. about a new contract. Regis had returned to living in his cemetery, so lying to him was not necessary. 

At the appointed hour he arrived, and was shown in. The manservant was overly professional, trying to almost appear non-human in his movements.He let the witcher into a balcony on the second floor, facing into the courtyard. "My lady asked you to wait here until she was ready. It should not be long, please enjoy some light refreshments while waiting." He bowed, stiffly and closed the door behind him. 

Grumbling about needlessly secretive people, Geralt took to gently passing the length of the balcony. It was a slightly chilly night, an omen of the winter to come. He rolled shoulders, trying to ignore the pestering irritation under his skin. No one was giving him clear answers, they all spoke in double meanings, a trait Geralt was learning to hate.  _ Maybe that's why I fight monsters, they are at least honest in their cruelty. _ A cold wind passed by, he took a look at the now quite brilliant moon before focusing back at the table. It was no longer empty. A man sat perfectly still, his blue eyes staring at the witcher. 

Geralt was halfway through drawing a blade before the vampire rose, hands out as if to portray a look of innocence. Not believing, silver blade in hand and heart hammering Geralt dropped into a more aggressive pose, ready to pounce. Already he knew himself at a grave disadvantage, not fully healed yet and alone. No potions, no preparations, the vampire could easily dispose of him. 

"I am not here to fight Geralt." Detlaff spoke quietly, he sat back down and motioned the witcher to sit opposite. 

"Fuck you." 

"A perhaps reasonable answer, but I insist." He took the chair beside him and kicked it towards the witcher. He had not drawn claws yet, face still calm, but all that could change instantly. Geralt sat, but kept his sword out. 

"What the shit do you want?" He spat, images of the screaming people running through the bloody streets of Beauclair ringing in his ears. He had caused so much death. 

"I wish to apologize to you." The vampire was obviously trying to force his face to stay neutral, but one hand had fingers tapping impatiently at the table. He did not take to insults well.

"Take your apology and plough it." The screaming people, the blood, the look of total defeat on Damien's normally composed face, the pain in his neck, but no it stopped at one image. Regis was bleeding, holding the man, teeth in his neck. He was dying, dying and Geralt was trapped, unable to help, unable to move. Helpless in the face of death. _ You bite Regis, you could have killed him, I could have lost him again. Fuck you for making me see that. _

"I have done what I intended, I see no reason to listen to your hatred" Detlaff got up, obviously moving to leave. 

"Wait, I want to know something." Regis was dying, but it stopped, it all stopped and no one would tell him why.  _ Why are we alive?! _ He put the sword away, trying to take a more even handed approach. 

"What in particular? Did I intend to kill you? Yes." The vampire was starting to pace, mimicking Geralt's actions from earlier. 

"Why did you stop?" 

That seemed to confuse the man for a moment, then he looked down. "I am not so unfeeling as that Witcher, nor am I so unmovable as to not realize. I simply was a fool for not realizing earlier." 

"Realizing what? Finally felt guilt?!" He tried to keep the conversational tone, his desire for answers more than the seething hatred, for now at least. 

The vampire seemed to struggle for words. "Regis spoke to me. Of sorts. He told me nothing and everything. We are blood brothers witcher, as such he could communicate thoughts using his own blood as the messenger. It is an act of desperation, but it worked." 

"He asked you to give up?" 

The man laughed, a weird laugh, humorless. "No witcher, he begged for your life. He expressed that I end him and call it a day, but spare you." 

"Regis did that." Geralt felt his mouth go dry. 

"Of course, he loves you." Geralt's answering look caused him to continue. "Your incredulous expression is amusing, but makes the truth no less valid. I know this witcher, I tasted it from my blood brother. He begged for his beloved's life. I know how it feels to lose love, I could not give that to him. The only person who cared truly for me. I had to spare him from that fate. That is why you are alive Geralt." Bitterness and sadness filled his voice. Geralt simply looked shocked. 

The vampire sighed, "Go home witcher. I will not come back to Toussaint within your lifetime. Tell my brother I am sorry, but I must leave. He may come find me, when he becomes bored of your meddlesome behavior." The vampire nodded before misting away. 

The witcher waited but a moment before storming out, ignoring the horrified calls of the man-servant, he had only one destination in mind. 


	4. Hot Blooded, cold skin

He pushed Roach, arriving well into the night, eventually turning to morning but it mattered not. He was ready to break down the crypt door when it swung open to reveal a slightly shocked vampire.

"Geralt what ever is the matter? Come in dear friend, it is quite safe inside." He nearly dragged the witcher inside, looking nervous. However that expression changed in an instant as Geralt got close. The vampire pulled him close, eyes wide, almost scared. "Did he hurt you Geralt? You don't smell like blood but I must be sure!" 

"Regis." He said simply, gladly being lead into the main area, he let the vampire sit him down, with worry written all over his features. 

"Now tell me everything, please my friend, tell me if you are alright." He met the witcher's gaze, eyes huge. 

_ He loves me. He tried to trade his life for mine. He loves me. _ Geralt continued to stare, trying to keep himself in check.  _ Would he let me kiss him? What do vampires taste like? What does Regis look like, really look like? _ His gaze settled on the man's mouth, he felt his own open slightly, curiosity mixing with something far more base.

"Your silence worries me greatly, were you threatened?" Regis moved into a crouch, to make their faces at the same level. 

The witcher let his gaze drop to a neck, hints at a collarbone. "I am fine, we simply spoke." 

"What did Detlaff want?" Regis was trying to sound gentle, coaxing, still obviously nervous. 

_ Is he that gentle in bed, or perhaps more aggressive, domineering _ . Geralt tried to yank his mind back from the lovely thought of being pinned under a vampire, this vampire. "To apologise." 

Regis let out a soft noise, somewhere between a sigh and a sob. "He was beyond thought, the pain too strong. I am glad he has recovered, feeling guilt is an excellent first sign. Do not believe that I have forgiven him, but I am glad that a part of my dear friend remains. Did you accept his apology?" 

"Not sure." 

"That is alright Geralt, you need never, that is your decision. For now, I am content in that I lost neither of you, a relief and gratitude that is inexpressible in words." 

"Regis lost for words? That is more of a miracle." I _ s he cool to the touch in all places? What does vampire skin feel like? _

The barber-surgeon laughed slightly, and sat next to his friend, smiling slightly. "Is that all my blood-brother wished? Do you know where he has gone? I appreciate you coming to tell me, even rushing in at this early hour." 

Geralt moved a hand to turn him, so they face each other while sitting. He kept a hand on the vampire’s shoulder The vampire went stiff but did not stop him, he let the witcher's other hand cup his face and pull it close. He saw turmoil and hope hidden in dark eyes.

"He told me why we're alive." 

"Oh." Regis suddenly tried to back away, but the witcher's grip turned firm. Instead the vampire lowered his gaze. "It is not something that I particularly wish to speak upon at the moment. If you wish it, we need not ever speak of it, move on to other subjects." He moved his face back. He seemed almost embarrassed. 

Geralt was not a man of much patience, he had grown sick of people speaking around true ideas, doublespeak. He took the more direct route of pushing the vampire into him, catching his mouth in an embrace. The vampire's lips were soft, cool, and lovely. Geralt tried to deepen it, claim the vampire's mouth properly, it took a moment but the vampire relented, happily. He circled an arm around Regis' waist, pulling him on top of the sitting man. He released the jaw to move to holding the back of the vampire's neck, pulling him closer into the embrace. 

“This is hardly abandoning the topic.” Regis breathed out, voice perhaps deeper then before. 

A kiss cut him off, “And we aren’t talking either.” 

Regis squirmed, pulling back an inch. “You owe me nothing my friend, you simple continuing to exist is more than enough.” 

“This isn’t out of gratitude. Want to.” 

More kisses, they had lost the tentativeness of a first encounter and were moving to the more lustful ones shared between intimates. Ones that promised things to come. 

"You're a bastard you know that." Geralt managed to whisper into his cool skin, enjoying the moment of closeness. The feeling of a living creature, one that adored him, being within close proximity.

"You always insult those in this position?" A joke, the vampire caught the witcher's mouth again, one hand running through the white hair. “Your hair is beautiful.” A half whisper. 

Geralt moved to slip apart, looking into the enlarging pupils of the vampire. "Only those that do something so unbearably stupid." 

"What did I do?" Confusion, hair released now tracing the edges of a face. 

"Trying to die for me." Geralt tightened his grip, "You did that once already, won't let you do it again." 

"I would gladly Geralt, you are precious." He was kissing a neck, edges of fang touching skin and making the witcher quiver. 

He ran a hand up a back while the other rested on upper thigh, trying not to focus on the growing arousal in his gut. "Not enough to risk that Regis, not enough to risk you." 

The kisses stopped, they faced each other, the vampire still straddling him. Geralt leaned against the back wall, feeling cool stone against warming skin. They were still touching each other. 

"What do you want Geralt?" The voice was strained. 

A slight chuckle, "Right now? To find the nearest surface and fuck." 

"With a vampire?" 

"With you." 

Regis got off, moving to a standing position to the Witcher's dismay, he immediately missed the peasant weight in his lap. He could feel the loss of contact, the lack of an herbal smelling vampire. However the vampire seemed to straighten himself out. 

"Do you not want to?" The witcher tried to understand the sudden change. 

"Oh very much Geralt, my beautiful fall blossom. The things I wish to do you. However, my current abode while practical is by no means comfortable. I also lack certain supplies to aid in this, so would suggest moving to your residence. You have also clearly been awake for more than a day, I would prefer you be rested before hand. I have heard much about witcher stamina and want to experience at full capacity." 

The witcher fell silent for a moment then also got up, feeling a bit shaky. "Well Emiel Regis, join me for dinner tonight?" 

"Nothing I would want more." 

He stumbled out of the crypt, looking around wildly for a horse.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next Chapter things get a bit more explicit, so please feel free to stop here if that bothers you


	5. Blood boiled

He arrived at Corvo Bianco around 1, alone, wishing to go and prepare the house first, perhaps have a nap.  _ I don’t plan on sleeping tonight _ . Perhaps think about this decision with a cooler head space. It was easy to be persuaded when the other was straddling your lap, eyes full of want. Still, the closer he got to home the more the idea was appealing. Regis had always been a good friend, close, comfortable, trustworthy. Sleeping with him was perhaps not a fantastic idea but it felt oddly right. The man while looking delicate was unspeakably powerful, perhaps even forceful. Geralt look at the house as he dropped off Roach, thinking of all the ways they could couple. It had been many years since his last male lover, but this only helped build the anticipation. 

"Welcome home sir." B.B stood inside, at a desk, working as always. 

"Expecting company for dinner, just one." 

"Of course sir, I shall inform Marlene, may I ask the identity of your guest?" 

"Regis." 

"Of course, may I suggest a bath while I help prepare?" 

Geralt took the suggestion, avoiding smelling himself, after a quick nap he had a hot bath. When he got out, there was a simple outfit laid out on the bed. Loose linen shirt and leggings, comfy and casual. Running a comb through wet hair, he paused at bedside table, there was a nicely folded towel and a small bottle, it had the consistency of oil. A neatly written label clearly said "Olive oil refined", he put it back down feeling slightly confused. Outside the door, someone was obviously setting up a dinner table, Marlene was giggling about something. He walked out to find B.B opening a bottle of wine, pouring it into a clay vessel. 

"What's wrong with the glass bottle?" 

The majordomo simply smiled, it was his teaching look. "Reds must be given time to breathe for their flavour to be properly enjoyed. I hope sir doesn't mind the vintage I picked, it was from the storehouses and will go well with dinner." 

"Sommelier? There anything you can't do?" 

"Many things sir, but i prefer not to show them off." 

A knock at the front door interrupted their conversation. 

"Enter." Geralt moved into the room, noting how only two chairs were set up at the table, now landen with food and two light candles. 

Regis came in, a pleasant expression of surprise. The scene clearly made him happy, as he quickly walked in and closed the door behind him. 

"What a lovely tableaux." 

"I am glad master Regis appreciates it, Marlene made a desert with you in mind. I will then take my leave, the rest of the staff should also be in their homes. Enjoy your dinner." He bowed and left, the picture of polite. 

After he left, Regis gave a slight laugh, "I wasn't expecting a full blown romantic dinner." 

"I didn't ask for, i mean glad you like it." Geralt awkwardly sat down, motioning for his friend to join him. "Wine?" 

"Thank you Geralt." 

It was a roast for dinner, complete with roasted vegetables, fresh bread and several bottles of wine. Delicious, as always. Regis as always was an endless fountain of easy conversation. The evening was relaxed. 

"B.B was right, this is fantastic." Geralt poured another glass, leaning back in the chair, the picture of contentment. 

"You shall have to learn better descriptors of wine if you are to own this vineyard Geralt. Add some adjectives and similes to your commentary." 

"Well its red." 

"Impressive Geralt, your cat eyes can truly see beyond what normal people can observe. Perhaps next you will dain to mention its wet or liquid qualities." 

"Well you're in a good mood."  _ Just wait until my version of desert. _

"Quite, I have had a pleasant meal with excellent company in a beautiful house." Regis leaned back as well. 

Geralt got up, feeling a sudden urge to touch the vampire. Perhaps wine and low lightning was increasing his confidence. He moved behind Regis, putting a hand on his shoulder and helping him move the chair around so they faced each other. He paused to admire the vampire, his pleasant countenance and sweet voice. Still staring he bent down, and gently kissed him, using one hand to cup a face. 

"Come to bed." 

"Of course beautiful witcher." 

Geralt lay in bed, watching Regis undress, he had shed clothing already and quickly. It became quickly apparent that tardiness would result in them being ripped away. Regis however took his time, carefully laying down each article. 

"Hurry the fuck up." The witcher growled, his cock becoming quickly interesting in this situation. 

"You made me wait for years Geralt, now you may wait for a few moments." He smirked, finally walking over to the bed, climbing on top of the other. He ran hands up the man's skin, starting to kiss the man's neck. 

"Finally." He pulled the vampire closer, enjoying the cool skin on his warm. 

It was a slow gentle exploration, the vampire took his time to go over the man's skin. He wanted to touch and kiss every inch, lick his warm skin, taste him. As he rang a tongue along a scar on the abdomen, the Witcher had cleary become inpatient. His cock was straining, desiring to be touched. The vampire took the angry groan as a request and moved down, running a hand down the witcher's length. He got a pleasant moan as he stroked up. 

Geralt impatient, pulled the vampire's face up to kiss him, running a tongue into his mouth. He growled his pleasure of the stroking hand into the vampire's mouth. 

"Want you inside." Geralt growled, running on hand down to the vampire's hips. 

"You have anything?" He rolled beside the witcher, a running up the witcher's inner thigh. 

The witcher grumbled, obviously annoyed until he paused. Then laughed.  _ I ought to give that man a raise. _

"What's the matter Geralt?" 

"He really is the best." Geralt rolled over and pulled a bottle of olive oil off his bedside table. "This work?" 

"Quite, now relax most beautiful witcher." The vampire pushed the witcher onto his back, and moved down the bed nested himself between legs. 

"You're so lovely Geralt, and so very warm." Geralt heard the sound of nails being trimmed by teeth. Then felt oily fingers running down his length then moving downwards. The vampire was clearly being careful, his first finger moving slowly. 

"Does it hurt?" 

"No, keep going." Geralt breath out, a slight moan when the vampire reached a particularly intense spot inside him. "Fuck, that's good." The vampire started circling, massaging, powerful fingers stimulating him. A second finger followed this, then a third. 

"Regis.." A plea. 

"Of course my darling." Geralt felt a pillow being moved under his hips, he heard the bottle of oil being opened again. "This may feel a bit different from human anatomy." 

Geralt currently trying to slow his heart and relax, suddenly looked up. The vampire was between the witcher's legs, his eyes completely black, fangs clearly longer. He felt the hardness against his leg, suddenly realised it had spines, almost like bumps or ridges.  _ Like a fucking bat. _ It slowly breached his body, making the relaxing attempt earlier quite fruitless. The vampire worked into him slowly, pausing when fully enclosed. 

"You are so deliciously warm," The vampire whispered. "My wonderful Geralt, so very good." 

"Move dammit Regis." 

He did, they moved slowly together. The room filled with sounds of pleasure and sex. Geralt leaned back, his arousal reaching dangerous heights in his gut. The vampire's hands roamed around his chest. A tongue licked him periodically. The ridges of the vampires prick was distractingly intense. 

"I love you Geralt." He whispered, horse and wanting. His thrusts becoming more powerful and haggard. 

He felt the witcher's body convulse around him as he reached a climax, the wonderful feeling pushing him over the edge. They lay together, Regis still inside him, now collapsed on top. The sound of beating hearts slowly gently down. Geralt groaned as Regis extracted himself, moving to lie next to him. 

"Stay the night?" 

"Of course my darling." He ran a hand over the warm skin. 

"Live here?"  _ Do that every night from now on. Maybe let me mount you too. _

Regis sat up, looking a little surprised. "Move in? Geralt that seems a little extreme." 

He was pulled back down on top of the witcher's body, held there. "Of course, there's space here. You can help out, the staff already like you. The herb garden needs tending, and the alchemy lab downstairs could use an expert." 

"Of course I would love too, but this seems sudden." 

"Well just figured if you're doing to be my lover, then you ought to be closer." 

"Your lover?" 

"Did I not tell you?" 

"I can't read minds Geralt." 

"Then I love you, now stay here." 

Regis snuggled into his warmth, "Of course, darling." 

“Now I would like to have you.” Geralt moved to flip the vampire onto his back, running hands over cool skin. 

A laugh, “That is also a yes my beloved.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed! Always love writing Regis dialogue!


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